Feeling a lot of things right now. Gratitude sits on top. A lot of other things simmer below. I'm thinking primarily of our outing last night; Nic wanted to go to a fund raising event at a local eatery. We went; he knew some kids, we saw people we knew, but it was a zoo. On one hand. On the other, I saw a bunch of guys I knew from scouts there with their kids, like me, who weren't there with anyone else but themselves. One guy even sent his son over to us to offer their seats when they were done.
Nic went off to talk to some kids, and when I returned to our seats, he went off (I found out later) to stand guard at the kitchen for our order and bring the wait person over to our table with our order--a smart thing to do, considering the sheer volume of people packed into the small space.
That was his idea.
I've been quiet here because I've been processing a great deal on the subject of friendships and how they relate to me and the boys. That they do not have the same childhood experiences as hubby causes him anguish; I cope by telling him that their childhood was not all that different from mine.
Revisionist, much? Hell yeah.
I can write volumes on this subject, but to what purpose? Let's keep it simple; I keep the boys busy because it's easier for me to drown out sadness and hubby's angst and limit the kids' screen time all in one fell swoop. Oh yeah. Let's not forget alleviating my own guilt for not modeling better.
I need to write a few lines about this. Friendship did not come easily for me. I found myself casting a wider and wider net as I grew up, knowing that if I were to find like-minded people, I stood a better chance of doing so outside of where I grew up.
(It actually makes a weird sort of sense that my best friend was born on another continent and lived in another state the first 3 1/2 years of our relationship. But anyway....)
But how I got here....I spent a lot of time on my bike, riding far away from my neighborhood, a constant stream of daydreams running through my head. Actually, you could argue that my boys do very much the same between themselves, except they run lines from well-loved movies. And they sing. A lot. While I run them from one activity to the next. I come home, aching, tired, wanting to just sit with a glass of wine and a book, but then there's more to do to get them finished homework, bed time routines (they won't do these alone; every night it's like a whole new experience). Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Then I read this from Thomas Merton last night: "...self knowledge is impossible when thoughtless and automatic activity keeps our souls in confusion....we have to cut down on activity to the point where we can think calmly and reasonably about our actions. We cannot begin to know ourselves until we can see the real reasons why we do the things we do, and we cannot be ourselves until our actions correspond with our intentions and our intentions are appropriate to our own situations."
Here lies the intersection between my spiritual and secular lives; Fr M gave me the book (actually, all the PREP teachers got this book for Christmas), but some one I work with actually prompted me (unknowingly) to read it. And, suffice it to say, some things are coming together for me. I pay a whole lot of lip service to letting Go and letting God.
The trouble is, I have a hard time letting go. I'm beginning to get that. But on the plus side, the boys have something neither their dad nor I had growing up. They have each other. They are best friends. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.
So. I have some decisions to make. And some cleaning to do.
Time to start putting my money where my mouth is.